User:Mathmo/Scandinavian Immigration to New Zealand in the 19th Century

A Danish Migrant Family’s Voyage to New Zealand in 1872

(Excerpts from a speech by Dr Bjørn Weis at Makaretu on 19 October 1996 on the occasion of the centenary of the burial of Else Marie Jensen and the unveiling of her headstone).

Let me now take you onto a typical Danish farm in 1872, from where we shall follow a young family on their way to New Zealand. The story is a figment of my imagination but nevertheless typical of the events outlined in the story.

Their family farm is situated in Sønderjylland, which is now called Nord Schleswig by the German perpetrators. For 8 years Jens and Kirstine Petersen and their family have lived in Germany. The border was suddenly moved several hundred kilometres to the north. The old Danevirke rampart is now over 100 km inside Germany. Their eldest son, Peter, lives with his wife, Marie, and their two young children, on the farm, and when his parents grow old Peter will be taking over the farm. The second son, Hans, has recently been called up for service in the German army; everybody can see that a conflict with France is imminent; Dybbøl in 1864 was just a dress rehearsal for Herr Bismarck.

The third son is called Niels, and he recently got married to a young girl from a neighbouring village. It is this young boy who first gets news of the offer from the New Zealand Government. Immediately he hears about it he feels that emigration is the answer to his problems; for problems he has: As far as farming is concerned he really only has a future as a farm labourer. But even worse is the fact that he is expecting a summons from Herr Bismarck at any moment. However, one thing is certain; he does not want to live in Germany.

First he talks the whole thing over with his new bride, and then he takes the proposal to his older brother and his parents. For several nights they discuss all the details of the New Zealand proposal. It almost sounds too good to be true: Free passage, the right to purchase large areas of very cheap, fertile land in New Zealand, which seems to be a country with political stability and a wonderful, warm subtropical climate, friendly natives and hospitable settlers. What does it matter that the voyage is long, and that some trees have to be felled? “We’ll cope, as long as we stay together; our children will grow up in a free country not constantly engaging in silly wars. And we shall build a future together, living on our own freehold farm, which is something that we can never hope to do if we remain here in Denmark - or Germany, as it is now. Has Monad himself not declared that there are fabulous opportunities in New Zealand? Only 10 years ago gold was found in several places there, tons of it; it is such a rich, new country! - Let’s go!”

-And so they went. Hamburg was the first destination for young Niels Jensen Petersen and his wife Mette, who at the time was 6 months pregnant and would give birth to their first child on board the ship. Of course this should cause no anxiety at all, they were told, since the ship carried a most distinguished and extremely competent doctor.

They set sails from Germany in July 1872 and reached New Zealand 4 months later. The food they were served on board the ship was “more suited for pigs than for people”, and the conditions were extremely crowded. But worse than this was the fact that the ship’s doctor was neither distinguished, nor competent; for he turned out to be an unreliable, inconsiderate and incompetent alcoholic. When Mette was due to deliver, therefore, she was assisted by some of the other women. But in spite of the assistance she got, the baby boy died only 2 days after birth. There was no clergyman on board, so another young Danish emigrant who was a student teacher performed the christening and the funeral service. Mette was in very poor health for the remainder of the journey, as one may expect, but once in New Zealand on terra firma she did recover slowly from the tragedy, although the mental and spiritual scars stayed with her forever.

Together with several other Danish families they were now transported to their new home; that is, the women and smaller children could ride on horse-drawn carts, whilst the men and the older children had to walk. And after four days at a very slow pace, since the road was only a mud track, they reached their destination, which was simply a clearing in the enormous subtropical rain forest. Most of their luggage was left behind on the wharf in the care of the ship’s agent who assured them that it would follow them promptly as soon as it had been unloaded. But they never again saw their belongings.

There were no houses at the campsite, only a couple of tents. They were told that they had to build their own houses. Already some immigrants who had arrived earlier had constructed some hovels in the clearing. Niels and Mette looked at them in horror and their thoughts went back to the farm they had left behind; a whitewashed, cosy place in the smiling Danish summer land, half a world and an entire life away. They were also told by the Government’s agent that the monies for the ‘free’ passage had to be repaid within one year from their arrival date, and that the land they could buy, for £1 per acre, had some trees on it which they must first cut down. And in addition to that they had to work at least 4 days per week for the Government. According to the contract and its very small print in English this entailed the felling of large tracts of forest, in fact several hundred kilometres of it, so that a railway and a road could be constructed. They also had to walk all the way to the place at which they happened to be working, carrying their heavy tools and equipment, and this could take many hours. There was no doctor in the camp, there was no school, there was no church, the New Zealand Government, in fact, provided the new immigrants with nothing. And only once or twice a month it was possible to get a supply of food and other necessities.

In times of hardship it is only a natural reaction that one turns to Higher Powers for help and consolation; but in New Zealand the Lutheran Church, under whose spiritual wings everyone had gathered back in Denmark, had not yet been established; so, until a church was built, the people in the immigration camp met regularly in one of the small huts where they read aloud from their bibles and sang hymns of worship. It was not long before a church was built in the area, however, and a chaplain appointed, and shortly after, a much-needed school was also established.

A song which was very dear to their hearts was the beautiful and nostalgic “I Denmark er jeg født ---” (‘Thou land, where I was born, and have my home’) written by Hans Christian Andersen, who died in 1875. This song is always sung with patriotic affection at any meeting the Danes may have arranged, no matter what other details the agenda contains.

It is difficult for us today to imagine the hardship and deprivation these first Scandinavian immigrants experienced. And yet, from all reports it is obvious that they did not complain. After all, they themselves had chosen this new life, and were not likely to give in now; they continued to work hard, they were widely renowned for their skills and resourcefulness, and they were liked and respected by the Maori, not in the least for their tolerance and lack of racial prejudice. In fact, these early Scandinavian pioneers sacrificed everything they knew and grew up with in their home countries to secure their children and grandchildren a better life than they themselves believed that they would have under the constantly changing political situation in Europe.

They arrived here in New Zealand with basically nothing but their own resourcefulness; they worked here, and in spite of great adversity became useful members of a New Zealand society which very soon was to become a model of Government for the rest of the world. Although relatively small in number it is obvious that the early immigrants left their mark on New Zealand society, even if it is difficult to trace today. The influence they had on the thinking and the forming of opinions of the decision makers of the day was probably quite considerable, although it is difficult to assess correctly. And one day they also died here. They left a small gene pool of great importance for the social fabric of New Zealand society which cannot be underestimated.

Every single one of our Scandinavian ancestors has left a valuable inheritance the importance of which, however, can only be estimated in terms of spiritual and mental qualities passed on to their descendants. Although they have passed away, we must always remember to lift that inheritance with pride and intelligence, and make certain that their memory shall live forever.

Bjørn Simonsen Weis